Zara's Game

by Jo Black

  ‘I want the discrete service, I’ll pay the premium.’

  ‘You understand while my service brings certain assurances of confidentiality, I cannot control the tongues of others. The mere act of inquiry can be enough to alert the owners of the information you seek as to the interest in it.’

  ‘But not who is interested in it, as long as you keep that a confidence then we can do business.’

  ‘Then we have an understanding. Before we continue, so I can understand the premium required for your request, I have to understand the nature of the client.’

  ‘I’m the client. Let’s just say I want to tie up some loose ends before I meet my maker.’

  ‘It is understandable. So many sacrifices, and to what end? Without conclusion how can you find peace of mind that your work here is done.’

  ‘It ain’t over until the fat lady sings.’

  ‘And you wish to provide her song?’

  ‘The devil has the best tunes.’

  ‘So, what is it you require?’

  ‘Rush job. I need full workups, accounts, transfers, beneficiaries. All you have. And I need it in 24 hours.’

  ‘This will be more expensive. Do you think you can afford it? I assume your previous employer is no longer settling the account.’

  ‘A rich aunt died and left me her fortune.’ Hunter took out an envelope and passed it discretely over his shoulder. ‘That should cover the deposit. Payment of the balance on delivery.’

  ‘We haven’t agreed a price yet.’

  ‘Two-point-five. I have your price list already.’

  ‘That was your employer’s price list. It reflected certain discounts for their part-exchanges and volume purchases. I’m afraid for a single transaction without those benefits, the price is five.’

  ‘Don’t you want to see the shopping list first?’

  ‘There is no need; you are looking for the dossier that was returned to its owner. I know of the contents because I was the one who supplied them to your colleague, Ms. Scott.’

  ‘Then if you’ve already done the work, and been paid once, there is no effort, this is a bonus.’

  ‘The value of the information has gone up since it was first purchased. The price reflects the interest in it.’ Hunter exhaled with annoyance. ‘Perhaps you should come back when you are bequeathed an inheritance by another generous aunt. Or perhaps, you have something you can offer in part-exchange.’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘A certain client has a vested interest in the unfortunate incarceration of Mister Radic.’

  ‘Is this the related party that I have an interest in? If so I believe there would be a conflict of interest.’

  ‘No, this individual is purely in the importation and exportation business. Recreational pharmaceuticals. He is concerned that Mister Radic has in his possession certain documents that he may be tempted to trade with the authorities to achieve a more favourable outcome to his current situation. My client is simply looking to recover those documents. If you were to offer to recover them, then their value to me would allow this trade to proceed at two point five million.’

  ‘What makes you think I could get them?’

  ‘Let’s just say I understand from my sources that Radic’s release is being arranged by a mutual acquaintance.’

  ‘I don’t have time to wait for that.’

  ‘In light of our prior dealings I’m willing to extend you credit on your account until you deliver.’

  Hunter considered the options. ‘You have a deal.’

  ‘This is the information I require.’ An envelope was passed forwards. Hunter put it in his pocket.

  ‘I’ll take care of it.’ Hunter took out the envelope from his pocket and passed it back. ‘Doesn’t seem much point in this, you already know what’s in it.’

  ‘The delivery will be by the usual arrangement.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You know how to contact me when you have what I have asked for.’

  ‘I have one question, before you go. Humour a dying man.’

  ‘What is it?’

  Hunter turned round to face Dufort. ‘What do you do with all the money?’

  Dufort smiled. ‘You might ask Marshalli Rossiyskoy Federatsii Aleksandr Dragunov the same question. It is strange is it not, how our allegiances change over time? You spent the early part of your career fighting the Soviet, now it appears you are in their service. I wonder if perhaps your map is taking you in the right direction?’ Hunter turned back around. Dufort got up and left.

  50

  Alex arrived at the camp to be met with a scene of chaos. A heavy sandstorm and wind was ripping round the tents as his men chased around trying to secure everything. Sooty walked towards the helicopter to greet him. ‘What is going on Sooty, why does the camp resemble a Russian travelling circus?’

  ‘Trevor and his damn bears! They broke out of their cages in the sandstorm and rampaged through the camp. We’ve been trying to put it back together, but the wind isn’t helping,’ Sooty yelled to be heard over the howling wind and rotor noise.

  ‘Where are they now?’ Alex asked.

  ‘God knows. They all ran off into the desert. All that’s left is the stunt bear.’

  ‘Stunt bear?’

  ‘Some guy in a bear suit. Said his name was Roy I think. He’s in the medic tent being treated. One of the boys shot him in the ass by mistake. He was quite convincing.’

  ‘Where’s Trevor?’

  ‘There’s bad news, or good news on that front.’

  ‘The good news?’

  ‘Trevor took off with Megan and Gadaffi’s money a couple of days back. Hasn’t been seen since, so that’s the end of his fiasco of a film shoot.’

  ‘So what’s the bad news?’

  ‘Gadaffi’s people stopped by. They want their film or they want their money back.’

  ‘Tell them we don’t have either.’

  ‘We tried that.’

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They don’t care.’

  Sooty and Alex reached the haven of the Quartermaster’s tent. Sooty did his best to secure the canvas door from flapping around noisily as Alex removed his shemagh and sand goggles. ‘How long is this storm in for?’ he asked.

  ‘A few days.’

  Alex walked over and poured a couple of shots of vodka and handed one to Sooty. ‘Well, we have a bigger problem than Gadaffi. Mossad think we’re behind this film stunt. They’re planning an airstrike.’

  ‘When?’ Sooty looked shocked.

  ‘They want Trevor’s head on a plate and the film shut down or they’ll smack us with the hammer.’

  ‘The latter part is clearly taken care of, but we haven’t got any idea where Trevor and Megan went. He’s got a huge chunk of change to go play hide and seek with.’

  ‘Did he pay for any of this shit?’

  ‘Fifteen million and a note.’

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘Dear Alex, no hard feelings. I think my creative differences with the Colonel can’t be resolved. Megan is threatening to call PETA if we go ahead with his idea to cast the bears as suicide bomber jihadi’s blowing up a Jewish circus full of children. Hope things work out for you. Trevor. P.S: I’ve left instructions for feeding the bears, and tell Roy his cheque’s in the post.’ Sooty handed Alex the note.

  Alex shook his head and sighed with relief. ‘Small mercy we finally got rid of him I suppose.’ He downed his vodka. ‘Right here’s what we’re going to do. Send word to Gadaffi that Trevor has gone location shooting to film, I don’t know, blowing up a fucking synagogue in New York or some shit like that, anything that get’s Muammar off on one of his rants and distracts him. While this storm is in pack up the whole camp.’

  ‘Pack it up? We’ve just spent hours trying to put it back together.’

  ‘Well if you don’t pack it up the Israeli F16’s are going to do it for you.’ Sooty sighed. ‘You need all this shit shipped out of here before
the sandstorm clears, and The Agency satellites, and Gadaffi, realise we are gone. That should buy us enough time to wrap things up and get out of Libya before he realises Trevor’s fucked him, and comes to us to make good.’

  ‘Where do you want us to take it all this shit?’

  ‘Just get it packed up for now and get it on a cargo ship. Pay the captain off to drop the anchor in international waters while we figure out where we’re going next.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’ve got to take Ludmila back to Mikhail and see if I can get us back into Russia. If not, I don’t know. We’ll figure something out. Is she here?’

  ‘We put her in Trevor’s old tent. She’s not happy.’

  ‘She’s never happy... Get to it Sooty, we don’t have much time.’

  ‘The boys won’t be thrilled at taking all that shit down again.’

  ‘Give them each a bonus out of Trevor’s money.’

  ‘What about the bears?’

  ‘I don’t care about the bears Sooty. Just get this camp packed and on the trucks before dawn.’ Alex put his shemagh back on and headed across to Ludmila’s tent.

  ‘You’re back then.’ Ludmila scowled. ‘You leave me in this shit-hole with no flushing toilet, and fucking bears running around everywhere! What the fuck is wrong with you Aleksei! You trying to punish me?’

  ‘Well cheer up, I’m taking you back to Papa in Crimea.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back to Ukraine. You can take me back to Istanbul.’

  ‘If you want to go back to whoring yourself to Turks, that’s your own affair. My deal is to deliver you to your father. Pack your shit. The helicopter leaves in ten minutes.’

  ‘Fuck you! You son of a durak goat herder!’

  Alex left Ludmila to her temper tantrum. He took out his satellite phone and tried to get a signal. He punched in a number and shielded the best he could from the wind.

  ‘Alex, what the hell’s going on there? Sounds like a hurricane,’ Nish said.

  ‘Sandstorm. Listen we’ve got a new problem. Trevor’s run off with Megan and Gadaffi’s cash.’

  ‘Who didn’t see that coming...’

  ‘We need to push the timescale up. I’ve got Sooty to stall him with some bullshit, but as soon as he realises we’ve played him like a cheap violin he’s going to be pissed. We’re packing up here, but if things don’t work out with Mikhail the boys are going to need a new campsite.’

  ‘That doesn’t leave us a lot of options, given our hostiles’ list sphere of influence now spans most of the globe.’

  ‘Call Sousa’s guy in Haiti, unless you can think of anyone better.’

  ‘I’ll see what favours I can call in. Leave it with me.’

  ‘I’m taking Ludmila back to Mikhail. We’re heading to the airport now. I’ll check in with you when we’re done. If you don’t hear back before twenty three hundred then send that devious Kharkovite an exploding cake with my compliments.’

  ‘Be my pleasure.’

  ‘How’s Paris?’

  ‘Good food, good wine, shit weather, rude locals.’

  ‘That’s Paris. Talk to you later.’ Alex put his phone away.

  Sooty, struggling to stand up straight in the fierce wind, made a dash across to Alex. ‘The pilot’s on the radio, he said if you don’t get out now the wind’s going to ground you. You need to go Alex.’

  ‘Tell him to get her started. We’re coming now,’ Alex yelled back. Alex went into the tent where Ludmila was sulkily packing her case. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  ‘I haven’t packed yet.’

  ‘How long do you need?’

  ‘I don’t know...maybe hour maybe two.’

  ‘That’s too long, we’re going now.’

  ‘What about my things!’

  ‘We’ll FedEx them.’ Alex dragged Ludmila out of the tent screaming and protesting like a wild banshee. ‘Sooty!’ he yelled. Sooty stopped and turned round. ‘Give me a hand with her!’ Sooty reluctantly returned and grabbed hold of Ludmila’s kicking legs, and did his best to restrain her as they carried over to the helicopter. They dumped her on the cargo floor. Alex pinned her down as Sooty took some restraining tape and bound her legs and arms together. ‘I’m sick to death of listening to your complaints.’ Alex put tape over her mouth and a black bag on her head. ‘We’re good. Call me as soon as you’ve got packed up.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Good luck Sooty.’

  ‘Aye boss, good luck with her eh? She’s worse than the fucking bears.’ Sooty retreated from under the rotors and cleared the pad. Alex put a set of intercom headphones on, tapped the pilot on the shoulder and gave him a hand signal to take off. The pilot wound the collective up and struggled to keep the helicopter level — sending Mila rolling about the open cargo deck like a bundled carpet. Alex struggled across and secured her in the webbed cargo netting before strapping himself in as the pilot fought against the turbulence, flying blind into the sandstorm towards Benghazi.

  51

  Alex’s limousine arrived at Mikhail’s Crimea summer palace in the early evening. One of the security guards walked out, opened the limo’s rear passenger door and Alex exited. He walked round and popped the trunk. ‘Fetch my luggage Igor, there’s a good boy.’ Igor, the giant shaven hair gorilla of a guard lifted the oversized long suitcase out of the trunk, frowning, as it started moving. ‘Don’t worry, it will only bite if you let it out.’

  Igor nodded. ‘Mikhail is expecting you. He is in the drawing room.’

  ‘Bring the suitcase then.’

  ‘Is it bomb?’ Igor asked.

  ‘No Igor, it’s much worse than that, it’s Ludmila.’

  ‘Yes. Much worse than bomb...’ Igor said with a sigh. He followed Alex up into the house. They made their way through to the grand drawing room where Mikhail was sat on a sofa listening to classical music from a Bang and Olufsen stereo. As they entered, Mikhail picked up the remote control and turned the stereo off. Alex walked in followed by Igor with the suitcase. Alex gestured Igor to put it down on the rug in front of the fireplace.

  ‘What is this?’ Mikhail asked.

  ‘It’s your daughter,’ Alex replied.

  ‘Is she alive?’

  ‘Oh yes...’ Alex said drawing a deep breath and raising his eyebrows. ‘Very much so.’ Mikhail nodded. He poured Alex a double vintage scotch into a tumbler and put it down on the table in front of him. ‘You might want to stand well back when you let her out.’

  The suitcase continued to wriggle. ‘We maybe let her calm down a little first,’ Mikhail said staring at the case with trepidation. ‘Did you have to put her in the case Alex?’

  ‘You know Ludmila...’

  ‘Then you had to put her in the case...’ Mikhail held his glass up. ‘Nazdrovya.’

  ‘Nazdrovya.’

  ‘Thank you for honouring our agreement. I trust everything was to your satisfaction?’

  ‘I got what I wanted.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. Was it worth the price?’

  ‘It’s not something you could put a price on Mikhail.’

  ‘Hmmm. But sadly it seems it was expensive for you. In many ways. And I hear you are having problems with Mossad now. How is it they say in England, it never raining but it is pouring.’

  ‘It never rains but it pours. It’ll resolve itself.’

  ‘I hope so. The Israelis are not renown for their forgiveness.’

  ‘Well, who really gives a fuck about them. If they want to make a song and dance about it, maybe I’ll go and help the Palestinians reclaim the settlements.’

  Mikhail smiled. ‘Little bothers you, does it Aleksei? Sadly I fear you may find life a little more challenging in the future.’

  ‘So what’s the damage for my recent expedition?’

  ‘What did you expect?’

  ‘A little loyalty for services rendered. I have indulged you in the past, I would have expected you to honour that.’

  ‘I am honouring th
at Aleksei. I’m allowing you to get out cleanly. Few of us are granted such an opportunity.’

  ‘That sounds very magnanimous of you my friend, if it was not for the fact you know I, how we say, am jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.’

  Mikhail laughed. ‘A strange metaphor given your fireproof nature. Retire Alex. You got your woman back. Take your Swiss Guard neutrality and enjoy the skiing, chocolate, and cuckoo clocks.’

  ‘Don’t much like cuckoos. No man should celebrate the cuckold, least of all with a fucking clock on the wall. So what now? Is this where Igor has a go at slitting my throat? Car bomb? Wait until I’m off the drive so you don’t have to clean up the mess.’

  ‘Nothing so barbaric. If you’re prepared to be sensible, so are we.’

  ‘And I wonder who we is Mikhail? I’m disappointed the King in the Red Castle didn’t see fit to deliver this message himself.’

  ‘I’m sure he feels badly about it, as do we all. You have been a loyal guardian of the Kremlin for a long time, as have your predecessors, and nobody celebrates your departure. Perhaps in time, after a break, and some reflection, you’ll be able to return. When the waters are settled to a calm.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘You have my word that nobody will come after you and your family. Family is important to us. We respect it, as you respect it.’

  ‘What about the old man?’

  ‘He is a relic of a bygone era, he threatens none. He can amuse the visitors with his anecdotes of his time with Stalin. We will let him see out his time in the only home he knows.’

  ‘That’s very decent of you Mikhail.’

  ‘We are more forgiving than our predecessors. Russia is entering a new age Aleksandr. The time of denouncements and purges consigned to history. We must embrace our trade opportunities. We need to build trust so the banks and investors will come. We cannot lock our country away in the Soviet era. We must become our future.’

  ‘You have it all figured out, don’t you Mikhail?’

  ‘You belong with that past Alex. We need accountability now, not secret guilds. Corporate security, not paid assassins lurking in the shadows.’

  ‘Careful Mikhail, such liberal thinking can be dangerous. Russia is an old and grand lady. She does not move like an athlete, and nor does she wish to.’